


Lack of Recognition

by sorgbarn



Series: For Destiny [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-09
Updated: 2011-04-09
Packaged: 2017-10-17 19:35:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/180438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sorgbarn/pseuds/sorgbarn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of series 3 events Merlin has a fit of despair. Things are never going to change for him, he is forever the Prince´s idiot manservant. And Arthur´s more or less public declaration of love to Gwen does not exactly help him along. He is sick and tired of being the self-sacrificing, secret magician and decides he has had enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lack of Recognition

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to imnotjkr for much appreciated beta. All remaining errors are mine and only mine, though. I have also chosen to use the the word braies instead of breeches. Braies is an old word for the garment used as underpants or simple pants in the medieval times (according to my old historical costume books). Arthur also wears hose, a two piece garment worn above or connected with shorter braies. Other than that I have not even tried to be historical correct, as the series is not.

#    
**Lack of Recognition**   


 

Everyone: knights, royal councillors, courtiers and their ladies, even the servants: in the great hall was in high spirits tonight. There were no limits to the celebration of the rescue of Camelot and the reinstating of its rightful King. Everyone still in good health had helped to make this a memorable feast. The kitchens had mastered both venison and boar with different gravies, and the new crop from the harvest season, which had begun filling the vegetable store rooms with carrots, parsnips, cabbage and turnips, as well as several different beans, had been almost emptied as they were all baked and cooked with fresh herbs and served from well filled trays by smiling maids and footmen.

Merlin didn´t have to fetch any heavy trays from the kitchens, or walk from one guest to another, waiting tables. He was positioned by the wall, supposedly ready to serve his Prince with wine or ale or water, whatever his royalty required. So far, Merlin had filled his glass once at the start of dinner. Now the idleness was making him fidgety. He shifted his weight on his feet, he leaned slightly on the wall, he shifted the decanter from one hand to the other. Every one of his friends was seated at one of the tables. Letting his eyes wander, he could see Lance - oh, Sir Lancelot now -  and Sir Gwaine, sitting next to each other, heads bent together, talking and laughing while eating from the full plates in front of them. At another table Sir Elyan sat next to Gwen, or maybe it should be Lady Guinevere now, Merlin wasn´t sure about anything anymore. Leon and Percival were there as well, although, he couldn´t see them at the moment. He tried to catch Arthur´s eye instead, but with no luck what so ever. Merlin was beginning to think he was deliberately avoiding his services, a suspicion only strengthened when he saw a wide smiling, high busted maid filling the Prince´s glass to the brink. The sight had him scowling.

The main courses were coming to an end, speeches were over and dinner participants had begun to move from the tables when he was startled by a soft touch to his elbow.

“Almost like the old days.”

Gwen stood next to him, with beaming eyes and a wide smile as her gaze wandered over the great hall and then on to him. He looked back at her, face blank, and her happy expression faded away.

“Of course, I didn´t mean it like that.” The old insecurity was back in her voice, as she tried to rephrase, to get it right again. “Not after everything that’s happened, of course, what with Morgana, and Morgause and …” She shook her head and glanced sideways at him. “But still, you must agree on it being a great celebration. Arthur looking more like a king than ever”, her eyes had turned to the Prince at the high table, beaming, her happy expression back. “He has shown himself worthy too, all honorable and brave. It was a marvellous act he performed. Unexpected of course, but admirable no less.” Merlin must have looked uncomprehending, because she added with great emphasis: “The knighting! Finally, skill meaning more than birthright. It means so much to Lancelot, and Elyan of course, but for Lance especially. You can´t possibly understand.” She had turned her gaze towards the table where Lance and Gwaine still sat, but averted it quickly.

“I think I do understand what it means for Lancelot, Gwen.”

“Oh, I had completely forgotten it was you, who …” She blushed ferociously.

Had it been in the old days as Gwen put it, Merlin would have done anything possible to make her feel more at ease. As it was anything she said seemed to gall him to the extreme. She was his oldest friend in Camelot, the first person, with the exception of Gaius, to show him any genuine kindness when he had first arrived, and he _did_ like her, he did still like her. What was there not to like? Kind, warmhearted, caring. Still he could barely stand her company or endure her amiable chatter, especially about Arthur. It was sickening. He clenched his grip around the decanter and kept silent, wishing with all his heart that she would go away. When she remained by his side, the situation all awkward and uncomfortable, he added:

“I´m still on duty, Gwen, if you hadn´t noticed.” His voice sounded unnecessarily harsh even to him, but at least she got the message and couldn´t excuse herself fast enough. When she was gone he deflated, leaning against the wall, not bothering if anyone saw his less than respectful posture.

It had been an awful couple of days since that moment he had seen Gwen and the knights riding in to the courtyard. Silly, really, he tried to tell himself, when nothing actually had changed. And _that_ was Merlin´s problem. He no longer wanted everything to be work as usual. He had been as big a part as the others in the rescue of Camelot, hell, even bigger on occasion. All feelings of resentment suppressed during four years serving Prince Arthur had come to the surface with Arthur kissing and holding Gwen for everyone to see. The very thought still made his eyes burn with tears.

 _You´re such a girl, Merlin!_ He could hear Arthur mocking him in his head. Since then he had resumed his daily chores, but not once spoken to Arthur. He had been up and out by the time Merlin had arrived in his chambers with his breakfast no matter how early he was there. This morning a tray with bread crumbs and some other leftovers stood deserted on the table, and when he had gone  to clear it away, a young maid had hurried in to the chamber excusing herself for having been delayed before gathering everything up and rushing back to where she had come from. The same pattern had repeated itself over the past few days. Someone else helped Arthur with his armour, though Merlin was still trusted enough to clean it, as well as muck out the stables and cleans his chambers. In the evenings Arthur ate with Uther or his knights in the common hall making sure never to return to his own chambers before Merlin had left. All in all this celebration was the most Merlin had seen of Arthur since the day in the courtyard, and still they had not talked.

King Uther bid those gathered good night and left for his own chambers shortly after the last of the main courses were taken back to the kitchens. As a result the good mood among the guests increased even more, and most people rearranged themselves into less formal groups.

“You´re doing just fine, Merlin.” Lance clapped Merlin´s shoulder. “You and I both know you were the one he should have knighted. But he´ll come around, you just wait and see. “

Merlin forced an unwilling smile, but did not get a chance to respond before Lance was summoned by a load holler from Percival, now seated at the main table. Lance twisted his mouth and Merlin shrugged. He understood.

The rest of the knights had gathered at the main table as well. Merlin saw how Gwen accompanying Elyan was seated next to Arthur in Uther´s empty seat, Arthur himself holding out her chair. They sat like a king and a queen and the realization hit Merlin hard. He had helped Arthur woo Gwen, he was the one who had talked about love as the only logical reason for marriage. He had been so utterly stupid. Now it was torture watching  Arthur´s hand slip behind her back resting around her waist, see him pay attention to her every word and gesture. Sweet, friendly, kind-hearted Gwen, her beaming, happy, loving face focused on Arthur, her eyes wide open, mouth smiling, body leaning in, hands holding his in her lap.

 Merlin pulled back from the wall he was leant against. With all the main courses finished, only sweets and drinks remaining for present guests, the servants were allowed to participate in the celebrations. His services were no longer required, not that they had been required before for that matter. He could join the other servants celebrating in the furthermost corners of the great hall, and not in the servants´ quarters as was customary. He could see most of the waiters gather around the plainer tables and other castle staff actually joining in, which was unusual too, but this clearly wasn´t an ordinary celebration. Everyone had reason to celebrate.

Merlin grabbed a cup of ale from the closest table, and emptied its strong, bitter contents in a few gulps, then reached for another. His arms shook slightly, jaw clenched, posture rigid as he tried to catch the prince´s eye again. Every time all he caught was Arthur´s head turning in another direction. He ought to leave before he got too inebriated, but couldn´t make himself leave the hall. Instead, he downed the second cup of ale. Immediately searching for and finding a third one, which contained burgundy wine, he then leant against the tapestry-covered wall, letting his gaze slip back to the main table.

Instead of Arthur´s blue eyes, he met Gwaine´s warm and smiling face across the hall. Gwaine stood behind the high table, an arm improperly swung around the shoulders of a not quite so young lady. He wiggled an eyebrow insinuatingly at Merlin, who shook his head. For the first time this evening he almost felt like smiling.

Leon and Percival were drinking, talking and gesticulating, wilder and merrier with the increasing number of drinks. Their conversation was probably anecdotes about personal heroic achievements and perilous hardship, the ordinary drunken bragging, Merlin assumed. Lancelot sat in their company looking pretty much how Merlin felt: crestfallen, listless, despairing. He looked glumly at Gwen and Arthur between absent nods every now and then at something Percival said and then drank his cup of something, probably wine, in silence. Leon leant forward, mouth moving and hand clapping his shoulder. Lance force a laugh in response.

Elyan sat next to Gwen when one of the kitchen girls, a curvaceous redhead, put her hand on his upper arm offering him a refill of wine which he accepted willingly. Next thing Merlin saw, the maid was in his lap, laughing and flirting, but it did not last for long. Soon enough the girl had grabbed Elyan by his wrist and pulled him over the stone floor to the corner of the hall where a man played a  flute, another sang some popular ballads, and younger men and women, servants and nobles alike, danced. The elders stamped their feet and everybody joined in loudly for the well-known refrains. Elyan and the maid were swept up in the fast growing circle of dancers.

Merlin downed some more wine and tore his eyes from the happy dancers. During his first year in Camelot, he had tried to participate in the servants´ social life: after all he had been part of Ealdor´s. A couple of serving girls, as well as a laundry girl, had flirted with him, and he really had made an effort of flirting back, it just never worked out. Kissing felt awkward and when a girl´s hand sneaked under his tunic he went stiff all over except for the one body part that remained soft and uncooperative. When the girls realized he wasn´t worth the effort they left him alone and rumor must have spread because the other girls ceased their attempts to seduce him. Castle boys and men were too risky, in his opinion. He didn´t dare jeopardize a new position in the royal household when that was why he had come to Camelot in the first place, that and his mother´s constant worry about his magic. And boy prostitutes were too expensive for his meager wages. And then of course there was Arthur! Once he had set eyes on him no one else seemed to suffice.

The cup in his hand was empty again, and he searched around for something, anything to drink. Most cups still standing on the tables were empty, most pitchers and decanters as well. While passing the tables in search of more alcoholic drinks he lifted his gaze to the high table. Arthur still had one arm wrapped around Gwen, with the other he played with a dark curl of hair resting on her bare collar-bone. Even from this distance Merlin saw the lingering touch, fingers stroking not only hair but warm, soft skin. His vision blurred and he had to force himself to look away. His breath came in jerks and the lump in his throat threatened to suffocate him. “You are two sides of the same coin.” The dragon had had him fooled. But he had wanted to believe, had wanted to think Arthur would change, would see that Merlin was good for him and loved him like no one else ever would. Why didn´t Arthur know they were destined for each other? He was willing to die for Arthur - no, he corrected himself, he had been willing to do that, while he still had believed there eventually would be some kind of recognition for him. He felt nauseated and flushed with anger. If he unleashed his powers … would Arthur see him then? Talk to him and treat him as a friend like he did the others? The magic buzzed under his skin. He bent his neck and glared at the stone floor, now covered with the sticky residue of spilled ale and wine, discarded food, spit and … worse. If he didn´t stop drinking, he wouldn´t be able to control it soon. He needed an outlet or he´d be a danger to himself and others.

When he looked back up he found Gwaine looking right back at him, now in the company of _two_ ladies, of which both had probably been married for a decade or more, and flirting with the proficiency only  experienced women would. Still the look Merlin got was overflown with innuendo obviously directed at him. Merlin´s jaw dropped and his tongue darted out over his dry lips. Magic fell obediently back into core and Merlin rested his gaze in those cheeky, brown eyes. Gwaine´s crooked smile provoked something deep down and for the first time since his very first months in Camelot Merlin felt he didn´t have to wait for Arthur, when Arthur didn´t wait for him, did not even have the feeling he should be waiting. He cast one quick glare towards the high seat, and noticed again how Arthur quickly turned away from Merlin´s direction to focus on Gwen.

He locked eyes with Gwaine again, raised his eyebrow purposely and nodded towards one of the hall doors, and without waiting for the answer he headed for the nearest exit.

The hallway lay semi-silent, no people to be seen and only the festive sounds seeped through thick oak doors. Wall torches provided only dim light. He steadied himself with one hand on the wall, while he staggered further away to the almost compact darkness he knew held an alcove. It wasn´t as dark as he had estimated though, and he leant with his back against the wall outside the alcove when he heard smooth steps coming his direction and soon enough Gwaine, impressive and broad-shouldered, approached.

“Oi, there you are! Thought I lost you for a moment …” Gwaine reached out to ruffle Merlin´s short hair a bit before steadying himself with one hand against the wall next to Merlin´s head and he chuckled low. “What do you want, Merlin?” He licked his lips mischievously.” I´m at your service, my friend. But as you could see for yourself, I left two, more than willing, ladies for your sake.” There was a clear hint of amusement in his voice, accompanied by a lewd smile. The complaints weren´t really complaints and it was not the first time Gwaine had made attempts to seduce him, this was however the first time Merlin had accepted.

He grabbed Gwaine´s arm and pulled them inside the alcove, away from casual passers-by, not that anyone would care anymore. This late in the evening no one was sober enough to take notice of who did what with whom, and Merlin was determined to use that to his advantage. He stroked a hand along Gwaine´s cheek and beard. “I´m tired of waiting.” The words came out thick. “I want … I want … something … now. I deserve more than being his dogsbody. I want to feel special, recognized for what I do. He never sees me! ”

“Shush, Merlin, not so loud, we don´t want anyone hear you, … shush.” Gwaine put a finger to Merlin´s lips.

With the other hand Gwaine stroked his crown, and his fingers played with straggly hair, then continued down to lightly stubbled cheeks, thumb caressing a high cheekbone and sharp chin and found their way under the neckerchief to the soft skin of Merlin´s neck.

“You´re my friend, Merlin, I like you, I´ve always have and I think you are beautiful, strong and brave and … desirable. You don´t need him now.”

Merlin shook his head and grabbed hold of Gwaine´s shoulders with both hands. It felt nice holding on to something steady and he pulled their chests together and rested his head against the base of the other man´s throat. The somewhat unfamiliar smell of Gwaine´s sweat mixed with lavender soap and something darker and undefined increased the intoxication he was already feeling from too much ale and wine. He closed his eyes and let his lips gently touch the little hollow at the end of the neck. It wasn’t a kiss, just a feather-light touch, it felt and smelled so good. The darkness and Gwaine hid him from the world, all disturbing thoughts of Arthur or Gwen together, which had tormented him the last couple of days, were dispatched for the moment to some inaccessible place in the back of his mind. He separated his lips and let the tip of tongue sweep over that hollow. He heard Gwaine mumble some assurances and felt hands move over his thin frame, pressing against his chest, sliding along the side of his body and stopping at his hips, where the grip hardened, waiting.

 “Are you sure … about this?” Gwaine´s voice was low and hoarse.

He was as sure as he ever could be, although somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he wouldn´t even consider doing anything at all without alcohol in his body. With the good help of the inebriation, self-pity, the silent roaring anger and, above all, plain old lust, old logic had disappeared completely. Right now he wanted Gwaine all over him. He groped Gwaine wherever he could reach and what never worked with kitchen girls and laundry maids definitely worked now.  He pressed his hips and crotch against a hard well-defined thigh, head swimming with want. The pressure felt good, so good, and he let out a brief groan, that almost instantly was matched by Gwaine lifting his thigh up and rubbing it against Merlin´s crotch and he could feel Gwaine´s hard length pressing against his hipbone, and what little sense he had still possessed up till this moment left.

 It was so long, too long, since he had been with another man. For more than three years it had been only him, his right hand and lonely, pathetic fantasies about Arthur in the narrow bunk in his room. This wasn´t Arthur, it wasn´t his dream, but that dream wasn´t ever attainable, and Gwaine was right here in his arms. Merlin was still young, he had needs and lust, he wasn´t doing anything wrong. What he and Gwaine were about to do wouldn´t harm anyone. Besides, Gwaine was wonderful, all brawn, with strong legs, firm stomach and chest muscles that made Merlin short of breath. He was male beauty personified, and very eager if judged by the way he was touching Merlin. The smell of fresh sweat filled his nostrils as he first nibbled an earlobe and then sucked at it lightly. He hooked his leg around a calf and rubbed back and forth. Everything he did was reflected by Gwaine without one single word uttered between them. That was a relief: had he been forced to express in words what he desired, he wasn´t sure he could have. Now he worked on instincts, and maybe Gwaine did the same. Gwaine had always liked him, and always shown it willingly no matter who saw. He had the reputation as quite a ladies‘ man but if his behaviour now was anything to go by he had had his fair share of men as well, not that it came as a surprise to Merlin.

Hands tugged at tunic hemlines and sneaked under linen fabric. God, the man´s smooth chest felt incredible to the palms of his hands. He wanted more naked skin. Why had he never allowed himself to do this before? Surely some courtship would not have lost him his position in the royal household? After all it was buggery, not magic. The thought made him smother a sob into soft, sweat damp skin.  He had denied himself all carnal pleasures, for what? For Arthur? But no more, no more! Suddenly Gwaine was untying the drawstring holding his braies up and giving room for fingers trailing along the coarse hair from navel and down, forcing out an unwilling pant from him at the contact between the other man´s fingers and the top of his cock.  He trembled with anticipation and moaned when the same hand shifted its grip and grabbed his full length and started moving back and forth.

 “Oh, gods, yes!” he cried out and his mouth was instantly covered by Gwaine´s to shut him up, tongue willing his lips open and he kissed back, tasting ale and onions and saliva. Oh, it was lovely like this. He licked and lapped and sucked, and thrust his hips forward into that tight grip. And then Gwaine let go and got down on his knees.

He pushed down Merlin´s braies and buried the face between his thighs, slow breath brushing against the delicate skin of his inner thighs and sac. Merlin squirmed and panted loudly. A pleasure filled shriek escaped him when Gwaine licked along the underside of his length a couple of times, before finally closing those smiling lips around him. It was impossible to stand still but he was held against the wall by strong hands on his hips. He buried his hands in long brown hair and when the pressure against the hips loosened he started fucking that warm, sucking, wet mouth. It felt fabulous, hot and sexy, and he was so close, so very close it was impossible to keep silent.

“Oh, yes, like that, yes,…  good, feels so good, …” He closed his eyes and moaned, letting himself enjoy the moment fully. He had waited too long for this: hot, slick, keen mouth so obviously appreciative and slowly driving him crazy. A hand cupped his balls and squeezed gently. He wished it could go on forever, but felt the tension building rapidly, heat pooling in the lower parts of his abdomen and crotch. What was the proper thing to do here? Come in his mouth as he usually had with Will? But then Will and he had been friends since they were barely toddlers, and it wasn´t like they had started sucking each other off, they had done other things first, so when it had come to this … Well, probably the right thing to do was pulling out. He jerked one, two, three more times and tightened his grip in Gwaine´s hair with the intension to pull out.

“Merlin? _Mer_ lin, is that you?”

Oh, no. _No_. Not now. He opened his eyes abruptly and turned in the direction of the unmistakable voice. It was hard to see much else in the faint light but the dark contours of an immobile shape less than two yards away. And instead of pulling out, he pushed further in, Gwaine´s tongue swirling along his rock hard length, cockhead hitting the back of the throat and the hand around his balls slipped further back, one finger nudging his hole, and it was all it took to pull him over the edge.

“Mmhm…, yeah, …” he groaned through clenched jaws.  Oh, dear gods, was he actually trying to answer that? With braies half way down his thighs? Before he could gather himself the dark contour turned and footsteps echoed down the hallway, then fading away completely. When he looked down, Gwaine had turned his attention to his own cock, wrapped his hand around it, pulling purposefully back and forth in a hurried pace.  Merlin knew he should contribute somehow, after all he had gotten more than he had bargained for, it would only be fair, but he couldn´t make an effort for it and settled for a supportive hand on Gwaine´s shoulder, wishing for it to soon be over.

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He was wrong in assuming Arthur would lie-in the next morning, nor had there been a maid attaining to morning chores as there had been the previous mornings, so he was late when he showed up with the breakfast tray in the Prince´s chambers.

“You´re late.”

Merlin startled at the abrupt non greeting, fell clumsily back against the door, and for a few moments the water jug rattled ominously but he managed to prevent it from falling to the floor. He kept his head carefully lowered, meeting Arthur´s scrutinizing gaze was his last wish after last night´s events.

“Hung over, _Mer_ lin?” Arthur asked, voice taunting. “Had quite a few drinks, and found yourself a paramour, did you?”

 Merlin proceeded with his morning chores; put the tray on the table, laid out a plate accompanied by a knife and a cup. He remained silent, though the taunting continued more viciously with every comment.

“You´re a lightweight, you shouldn´t drink! You lose even the poor judgment you´ve got to start with.”

Arthur loomed over him. Merlin could feel his breath against his neck and tried to steady his nerves. This prat behind him was the Arthur he had met when he first came to Camelot, and now had thought long gone.

“Must have been some totally sloshed bloke you got on his knees,” he sneered.

This was nothing like their normal banter, which Merlin liked and wanted because it made him feel comfortably warm and at ease, as if they actually were two sides of the same coin. But this made him want to cringe.

“Oh, come on! Tell me, who was it on his knees for you? I´m your Prince, damn it, Merlin, now tell me!”

Maybe the gods and goddesses hadn´t abandoned him. If Arthur did not know it had been Gwaine with him last night, Merlin would never tell. Handsome, selfless, caring Gwaine, a true friend who hadn´t even commented on his lack of participation at the end of their tête-à-tête. After one gentle stroke to Merlin´s cheek, he had tucked them both in and fastened their drawstrings properly before accompanying him to Gaius ´quarters, assuring him Merlin was the best friend a man could have, commoner, knight or royal alike.

He straightened.

“Breakfast served … Sire.”

“Now, you sire me? When I´ve seen you with your braies down and your private parts down another man´s throat?”

Arthur didn´t bother hiding his contempt, as if he aimed to hurt and the heat of shame moved rapidly over Merlin´s chest and neck and before spreading to his face and ears. It had only been Merlin taking what was rightfully any man´s to take, companionship and pleasure between two willing people, right? So why drag it in the filth, rubbing his face with it? Preventing himself from talking back, he bit his lip and moved away from the table. The bed was to be made, the old bed linen taken to the laundry maids, yesterday’s garments needed cleaning, maybe mending and folding before they were put away in the cupboard.  Thankfully the man was already dressed. Maybe he would never require Merlin to do it again, and maybe he would get himself a whole new manservant, if what Merlin had done was so loathsome.

Arthur finally sat down in the high seat at the head of the table and slowly tore the bread into smaller pieces before carefully putting them in his mouth one at a time, never letting his accusatory gloat abandon Merlin, now standing next to the bed gathering the obviously more than sweat sticky bed linen. The distinct smell of half dried cum rose from the fabric as he pulled it from the bed. Had Arthur had Gwen coming to him after the celebrations last night? Had she maybe even been with him and seen Merlin in that alcove? Was there no end to his humiliation? Or had it been one of the maids? No maid would ever turn down the prince; he could have whoever he wished and all he had to do was hint. Merlin had actually never caught Arthur in the act nor heard any rumours about such escapades or even seen traces of any castle maids visiting his bed. He let his fingers drift over the damp spots before tossing the linen to the floor. When he turned to the linen cupboard for clean sheets, he had to fight the sudden urge to raise his hand and smell Arthur´s cum, now smeared across his fingers. The heavy sent made something swirl in his lower abdomen and left a tightening feeling to his crotch. It was pathetic, he was pathetic and now in daylight with his back to Arthur, it was all there for the Prince to see, to mock.  Quickly, he wiped his hand off on his thigh.

“So, how´s your knee walking coming along? Like giving as much as you like getting?” After the awkward silence the sudden outburst seemed to rumble dangerously through the chamber. After all they´d been through the last couple of months, even though Lancelot, Leon, Gwaine, Elyan and Percival had been knighted and he was still a servant, even though it was Gwen whom Arthur had chosen, and even though it had been a mistake last night – _this_ was not how Arthur treated his subjects, not anymore. He used to be as fair as his position allowed him, hence Merlin still a servant, and as friendly to his subjects as he possibly could. This was scheming, mean, and incomprehensible. Even Arthur wasn´t so dense he couldn´t see Merlin´s shame or sense his discomfort by now. Ordinarily he would quit or change tactics long before it came to this.

“Why would you care, Arthur? Looked like you had a good time yourself last night!” He gathered the bed linen from the floor and moved it to the laundry basket, finding himself much closer to the table and Arthur than felt comfortable. He shifted his gaze from the laundry to Arthur´s reddened face and strained features. “ _No_. No, I didn´t mean … you can of course …. I only meant the feast. You had a good time, with the knights and … Gwen … and Gwen …” His gaze slipped to the laundry basket and back to Arthur.

The chair fell over with a deafening crash when Arthur rose faster than was possible and before Merlin blinked he was pinned to the table surface, a wooden plate poked his back and the almost full water jug fell to the floor as he accidentally jerked his arms in startled surprise. Pain repeatedly flashed his skull as Arthur pounded him to the wooden table with an unfaltering grip to his neckerchief. Was Arthur going to kill him? The beating seemed serious enough to frighten Merlin out of his wits. In pure self-preservation he reached out, unconsciously forming a spell which flung Arthur away and into the bed frame, half sitting, half sprawled on the floor.

Merlin straightened, adjusted his neckerchief and tunic with trembling hands and rubbed his back head, where a bump was already forming.

“You can choose to ignore me like you have the last couple of days, you can treat me like the no-good manservant I am, you can use me to let off steam when you need to, but this … this.” He looked straight at Arthur. “ How and with whom I spend my spare time is none of your concern. And I choose to spend it with someone who cares about me and who isn´t afraid to let it show.” Arthur could see the fading gold in his eyes, but he no longer cared. If he was arrested now, if he was burned at the stake it no longer mattered. Uther was a broken man, it would have to be Arthur giving those orders, and if that was all the recognition he would get for everything he had done over the years, then so be it. At least it would _be_ recognition. After all not even Arthur could ignore a sentenced man. He would have to witness the execution as customary.

“Clean up this mess.” Arthur waved his hand towards the table and the floor, rose and strode over to the window, deliberately avoiding any eye contact. “When you´re done here, I need you to muck out the stables, polish my armour and fetch me hot water for my bath before tonight´s dinner. You´re serving, wear your livery.”

The avoidance, the insidious calm, ticked Merlin off. What was Arthur playing at? He wanted to walk up to Arthur and shake some sense into him, force him to see Merlin as he was: the sorcerer, the friend and the possible lover. But Arthur stubbornly refused time after time. Merlin would have it no longer! A slightly raised hand and a half whisper and the room cleaned itself; breakfast belongings on the tray, water on floor wiped up, bed neatly made, yesterday´s clothes in the cupboard. Merlin lifted the tray and headed for the door.

“Anything else, sire?” He raised his chin defiantly, but Arthur kept his gaze focused on the courtyard beneath the window.

“No, that was all.”

The short dismissal could have been a death sentence for all Merlin cared. All anger he had felt moments earlier deflated in that single moment. All hope he had carried was lost. He meant absolutely nothing to Arthur, and the thought of that hurt, it hurt more than any flames on a pyre would. He closed his eyes for a moment to collect himself, then let his gaze slowly sweep over the chamber, over every floor tile, piece of furniture and tapestry.

“I can´t do this anymore, Arthur. You tear me apart, and I can´t take it anymore … I´m sorry, but I can´t …” The words were a barely audible whisper. He crouched over the tray, facing the door, waited in vain for any reply at all and left the chambers.

 

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By the time Merlin reached Gaius´s quarters he was shaking as well as freezing. He rushed through the main room and slammed the narrow door to his room open without as much as an eye towards Gaius. The elder man lifted the ladle, which he had used to stir some medical concoction, in the air, an eyebrow raised.

“What is it this time, Merlin?”

He ignored the question and shoved his few spare tunics and the extra pair of braies in the very same knapsack he had brought with him when he first arrived in Camelot. Over the past years, he had acquired no more possessions than he had had then, with the exception of the little wooden dragon and the book of magic.

“Is Arthur taking you hunting?”

“No!” It was hard fitting the book in the knapsack with shaking hands. When he managed he strode back out to the main room and halted by the clattered workbench. Gaius had reverted his attention to the concoction. “I´m going home, Gaius.”

The old man met his eyes and stopped stirring at once.

“Oh, that´s nice. So Arthur permitted your leave.  How long will you be gone?” Gaius turned and eyed the full shelves behind the workbench. “I have some medicines here, particularly hard to come by … I´m sure Hunith would be pleased if you …”

“Arthur doesn´t know I´m leaving.”

The announcement pulled Gaius´ attention back to Merlin, and the old man carefully eyed him. It made Merlin want to writhe with discomfort and he felt an immediate need to justify himself.

“Arthur is soon to be king, Uther being too weak to actually rule. Everybody has gained something, some recognition these last months, but me.” He sounded like a spoilt, whining child, he knew and still he couldn´t stop himself. “Lancelot, Gwaine, Elyan and Percival have been knighted. They will be good knights for him, brave, skilled and loyal.”  And Gwen has his affection, he wanted to say, she´s going to be his queen. “But I am just old, stupid, no-good Merlin, the manservant! That will never change. ”

Gaius had come up close and put his hands on Merlin´s shoulders. “Arthur needs you, Merlin. It´s your destiny to keep him safe. That doesn´t stop just because some knights have proved their loyalty. You are the only one who can provide magic protection.”

“He doesn´t care about the magic.”

“What do you mean, Merlin? What have you done?” Gaius´ grip on his shoulders hardened. “No one must know about your magic. Uther may be a weak king, but he is still King of Camelot, and he will sentence you to death if he finds out you´re a sorcerer.”

“Arthur knows and he couldn´t care less. Anyway, I´m leaving. And Ealdor isn´t within Uther´s jurisdiction.” He hugged Gaius, knowing he would miss the only father figure he had ever had. “I´m picking up bread and cheese in the kitchens. Have the medicines ready when I get back, and I´ll be happy to bring them back to mum.”

Gaius, features already worried, nodded and patted Merlin´s back soothingly.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The stables smelt of horse droppings and fresh straw, and even though it was only the beginning of fall it felt warmer inside than outside.  Merlin moved quietly once the stable doors closed. It was past noon, stables mucked out, horses fed and the knights practicing in the fields behind the castle. He should be alone, but just as he put his hand on the door to the saddle room he froze. Something, someone, was moving around in the fodder room, stifled sounds escaping the ajar door less than two yards away. People, they were at least two, based on the whispers, and the sounds of dulled footsteps. It was impossible to decipher words. Merlin flattened himself against the saddle room door, with his now sweat damp hand on the bolt, too worried it would creak to push it open. A soft giggle, followed by a wet smacking sound made him unintentionally smile and his whole body relax. So it was one of the stable boys and a maid. Well, the deserted stables in the afternoon made an excellent place for a tryst and considering their pursuit he wouldn´t have to worry much about detection.  He slowly lifted the bolt and started pushing the door open.

“… but I do. I do love you!” The female voice still low, but now clearly interpretable, and Merlin froze. He knew that voice, not a maid´s anymore. Gwen´s! Gwen and Arthur, it must be, in a tryst behind the fodder room door. It felt as if his heart dropped to the hard earthen floor, and nausea billowed through his entire body.

“No, we …” some of the words no longer audible, others drowned in subdued giggles and Arthur´s deep whisper. “He thinks highly of you, not that you don´t think highly of him of course, but it makes it harder all the same.”

He could only grasp Gwen´s part of the conversation, her higher pitched voice wasn´t muffled by clay walls and wooden doors. Where they talking about him?

“We will hurt him so much, I don´t know …”

They must be. Gwen always cared for him, well, all people’s wellbeing concerned her. Maybe she had realized how he really felt for Arthur and now she worried their love and future union would upset him.  Had it not pained him so much, it would have been almost touching.

“I care for him … love him like a dear, sweet brother.” The words were interrupted by new sounds of kissing and small sighs of what sounded like pleasure to Merlin. “I hate to see him sad.” Boots scraped the earthen floor and the hinges creaked loudly as Gwen or Arthur opened the door.

Without thinking Merlin threw himself inside the saddle room, closing the door behind him. He leaned on the wall next to the door, eyes closed, tears burning the inside of his eyelids, and heart pounding violently in his chest as he waited for the sounds of footsteps to die away and the stable door to slam.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The tall trees surrounding the circular glade glowed in red and yellow, colours intensified by the setting sun. No leaves rustled and the only sounds came from forest birds preparing for nightfall and a murmuring stream running through the wood only a hundred or so yards away.

It had felt wrong taking the sorrel mare. After all he was no thief, not that it mattered after his magic display. If Arthur really wanted to punish him, he could easily do so for sorcery and not bother with common horse theft.  But the magic book weighed more than the rest of his few belongings together, and with bread and cheese and two wool blankets he had decided it would slow him down too much if he was to walk the entire way to Ealdor. The mare was an easy decision, it was the horse he normally rode, Arthur had even proclaimed it his horse, and she was of no real value to the kingdom, too old to foal.

After he tied her to a low hanging branch and removed the saddle, he groomed her with a huge handful of dry grass, carefully stroking every inch of her dusty body. Later he repeated the movements with his bare hands, searching for scratches or invisible injuries. He finished by resting his head to her soft neck, drawing in her earthy smell and steamy warmth, burying his face in the rough mane. Every thought, every vivid vision of Arthur and Gwen together, kissing, fondling, in the fodder room tormented him. At least the mare´s close proximity calmed the ache in his chest, and he concentrated on keeping his breath steady. Finally he wiped his cheeks dry with the back of his hand, and went to set up camp.

Later something woke him. The dark sky above was studded with stars and he lay facing the small fire, wrapped in one of the wool blankets, and stared into dancing flames, listening. Was it wild animals, a boar or a deer, or maybe something smaller like a rodent of some kind? Or was it highwaymen or bandits, or even worse, a search squad from Camelot? He could discern the soft sounds of hooves and sticks braking, one single horse and it´s rider approaching, and the mare snorted. By now he was fully awake and ready to cast a protective spell if necessary. The approaching horse whinnied, the rider halted and dismounted, then led the horse closer.

Merlin rose a little, supported his body´s weight on his right elbow, then rose some more. A man, light hair reflecting the glow from fire, and he got on his feet.

“Arthur!” Because it was Arthur who tied his dark stallion next to the mare and turned to Merlin, mouth resolute, gaze stern and eyebrows contracted.

“Are you hiding from me? Because if you are …” His intonation was accusatory and his eyes flashed with anger. He moved closer to the fire and Merlin. “If you are, Merlin!” He still didn´t finish the sentence.

“Why have you come? To bring me back to Camelot? For trial? Are you going to let me burn, Arthur? Is that what you´ve come for? Or is it the mare?” He shouted and glared, took a step forward so they were standing at an arm’s length from each other. It was like a dam finally breaking. “All I ever asked was some sort of recognition. I put my life at stake, every day, for years, and for what? You´ve treated me like muck under your boots since the knights´ return. No, worse, I´ve been like thin air to you, nothing!”

Arthur swallowed and turned his gaze to the dark woods. “How can I recognize you for what you are to me? My sorcerer! My friend! My …” He shook his head. “How can I recognize even to myself, that I care more about you than what will ever be appropriate? How can I recognize you have magic when I don´t know what I´ll do if any harm came to you?”

“You care about me?”

“Yes! Yes, I do. I care about you more than anything. But it can never happen. I am the future King of Camelot, I have an example to set. I need a queen and an heir.” The last words were only a whisper. He took a moment to collect himself, and then walked off in direction of the stream. “I need to freshen up,” he declared, voice flat, facing the dark.

Merlin stared after Arthur´s back, engulfed by the dark, still stunned by his little speech. What had he said? What did it mean? What did he want? He followed him at a distance to the stream, watched him take of the jacket, then the tunic and the under tunic. From where Merlin stood he could see Arthur´s broad back, muscles moving under firm skin when he crouched over running water. Merlin´s mouth went dry. Arthur splashed water in his face, over his throat and chest, and rubbed his armpits. When he rose and turned, his eyes locked with Merlin´s. Stream water pearled in Arthur´s chest hair, rivulets passing down over solid muscles, wetting the waistband of his braies and hose.  Merlin blushed and suppressed a whimper. He wanted to turn his gaze away, but couldn´t. It was an everyday sight, Arthur bare and wet, and yet, so different. 

“I don´t understand. What about … Gwen?”  he mumbled and finally averted his gaze. Arthur picked up his clothes, walked back to the camp fire and settled on the blanket. Merlin followed, careful to avoid all body contact, but looked back at his prince.

“What about her?”

“You have feelings for her, and she has feelings for you.” Merlin wanted to tell him he knew about their tryst in the stables, that he had been there, had overheard them. Gwen had pitied him, was that why Arthur had come after him? Did they look at him like some child in need of special care?

“Well, yes … I do. She´s a wonderful girl, warm and kind and fun. Any man should be happy  to have her.” Arthur kept his gaze to the fire.

“She will be your queen,” Merlin sighed.

“That´s my intension, yes. A king must have a queen, Merlin, I told you earlier. And she´s the only girl I´ve ever even cared for with no enchantments being involved. It´s a huge sacrifice to ask of her though.” Arthur slipped a quick glance at Merlin. “Marrying someone like me …”

“Of course she will marry you, and happily so!!” Arthur spoke in riddles; it felt as if Merlin lacked a vital piece of information.

“But I´ll ask her to sacrifice her chance of true happiness.”

“No, you´re wrong, Arthur! I heard the two of you in the fodder room today. There´s no doubt she loves you, she said so …”

“I haven´t seen her today,” Arthur stated and turned a pained face towards Merlin.

“But I heard her, and yo…” His voice trailed off, as the missing piece of information fell into place, and he gaped from cold surprise.

“I must marry, Merlin. I have no choice.” Their faces were close. Merlin could feel Arthur´s hot breath on his mouth and chin, and the blue gaze swam in his. His heart raced, blood pounding so hard in his ears and he licked his lips. First their shoulders touched, then knees and thighs. Moments and longer they rested in that gentle touch, eyes locked. Only a couple of inches apart, all it would take was a tiny motion forward and they would kiss. Would Arthur approve if he carried out the idea? Was that how he should interpret Arthur´s speech earlier? Damn it all, why was it so difficult? Kissing Arthur, and more there to, had been a recurrent fantasy of his. One he had indulged in on lonely nights and while doing tedious tasks that demanded no qualified thought. Still he hesitated, lump in his throat threatening to suffocate him. The closeness suddenly became unbearable.

Impossible to think straight and anxious to put a modest distance between them, he rose abruptly and hurried over to the horses. “What about me, Arthur?” He had to know. “Are we friends? Even with my magic?”

“Yes, I want that. I thought we were … before last night, that is.”

Merlin blushed with shame, of course the alcove incident would come up and he felt an urge to justify his actions. “You have a hell of a way of showing it then! Could have fooled me.”

“What did you expect? Recognizing your magic would have forced me to send you away from Camelot, or it could have you killed. I didn´t want that!” Arthur had joined him with the horses, staring aggravated. “I´m protecting you, idiot.”

“I don´t need protection.” As Arthur had come closer Merlin had backed up against the tree trunk. Whatever calm the horses had provided it vanished with Arthur´s hands gripping his shoulders, shaking moderately.

“I´m protecting you from you.” The grip slid down Merlin´s upper arms and remained there, thumbs rubbing the tunic fabric in an unceasing stroke, and Arthur leaned in, connecting their chests.

Merlin heard Arthur breathe a little too fast and heavy, matching his own strained breathes, and felt hot damp air brush his mouth, chin and throat. Gaze narrowed down to spread pink lips, and his whole body flushed with anticipation, blood rushed from head to crotch. When their lips finally touched it was a light brushing, an exchange of breaths only instants before drawing back for mutual evaluation.  What Merlin saw of Arthur in the faint light from the fire and an almost full moon was wide, dark eyes and flushed cheeks, and he could feel a pounding heart against his. He leaned in to taste those pink lips again, better this time, taking the lower lip between his, licking exploratory with his tongue, then sucking lightly, lapping the corner of the lips before pushing into that hot, wet mouth, meeting Arthur´s eager response. It went on and on and on. Once they´d risked it neither backed down. It was demanding, wet and filthy, little finesse, all frantic sucking and teeth clashing. Merlin, dizzy with lack of breath, broke off panting only to latch back on as fast as possible. He didn´t know if he wanted to swallow Arthur or if he wanted Arthur to swallow him, only he was taking whatever he could for as long as possible. It was all he had dreamt of, and better.

Meanwhile his hands wandered, exploring Arthur´s broad, sturdy chest. The warmth emanated from the extra fine linen tunic and almost burnt Merlin´s palms. He stroked and rubbed his way over chest and upper arms, wanting to strip Arthur of his tunic, but settled with the soft, smooth skin of neck and nape. He trailed his kisses from mouth, to jaw, to collarbone leaving a wet trace behind. He wanted to taste every part of that bright skin, he wanted to crawl under and remain a part of Arthur. Desire simmered low in his belly, building steadily, threatening to overcast everything. He desperately wanted to grind his hips to Arthur´s and it took all restraint he could muster to prevent him from doing so. There was no telling how Arthur would respond to such an obvious sign of raw lust, and Merlin wouldn´t risk rejection. Then he didn´t have to.

Arthur pushed closer and straddled Merlin´s right thigh, slanting his hips up and pressing the unmistakable sign of a hard cock to his groin. Instinctively he pressed back, withdrew an inch and repeated, his motions mirrored by Arthur. They moaned and grunted and humped each other like pubescent boys. Merlin nuzzled an earlobe and clawed the small of Arthur´s back, so as to increase the pressure. It felt fantastic, want and lust accumulating, lower abdomen tense, cock lacking sufficient, proper stimulation, but the situation itself providing all the stimuli he needed to get off. Hearing Arthur´s hoarse cries of uncontrolled arousal, feeling his cock fat and hot rutting wildly against Merlin and smelling the familiar scent of day old and fresh sweat was all it would take. He bit down on the curve connecting neck and shoulder, burying his nose in the hair folding behind the ear, and pushed his hips, letting his cock drag along hip bone and muscled thigh, once, twice, letting out a whimper, thrice. Oh, oh, oh, so good! Holding on to that fantastic pressure while coming: hot, sweet, messy relief. Arthur followed almost simultaneously, all chafing movements, strained panting and deep groans before collapsing heavy against Merlin. For an eternity they held on to each other as if their lives depended on it, hard breaths the only audible sound.

When morning came Merlin lay under the blanket on his side facing the withered fire. Over the treetops in the east the sky was brightening with the promise of another sunny but probably chilly autumn day. For a moment he was disoriented. Why was he laying on the cold hard ground in the woods? And he had a big calloused hand slipped under his tunic, resting on his stomach, and the owner of the hand was curled up close behind him, and yesterday´s events came back to him. Of course, it was Arthur behind his back, although it was hard to believe, and a little unsettling as Arthur´s hand was dangerously close to his morning erection. Determined to sneak away he wiggled lightly putting a couple of inches between their bodies, only to be yanked back by that strong hand and arm.

“Don´t run away,” Arthur whispered low in Merlin´s ear, the air tickling and teasing. The whisper followed by a light bite to the earlobe and tongue licking below the jaw. Merlin involuntarily arched back and froze at the realization of Arthur´s hard length pressed to his buttocks.

“Are you …? Do you …?”

“Yes, please, … let me.” Arthur caressed the soft skin above the waistband of the braies in small circular motions, pulling out a low moan from Merlin. He fumbled for the drawstring, then found the right string to pull and eased the braies down over Merlin´s hips, taking advantage by stroking the bare skin of his hipbone and buttocks while doing so.

Then Arthur shifted, removed himself from Merlin´s warm back and wriggled for a few moments. When he closed in again Merlin let out a surprised pant at the feeling of naked skin against his, from the waist down.

“Arthur!” The name came out more like a suppressed groan than an actual word. The pure thought of what these actions meant was enough to make him tremble with want. He rolled his hips, letting the hard length under silk soft skin rub against the crevice of his arse. Arthur was already panting heavily, the air ghosting Merlin´s nape at every breath.

“I´ve dreamt of this, Merlin … for so long.”

Merlin felt Arthur´s fingers trail along the line of hair from navel to crotch. A firm, muscled leg pushed in between his own more wiry ones, followed by a stroke from the inside of his knee all the way to the hot place where thigh met torso. It wasn´t enough, he wanted to turn to face Arthur, to hold him in his arms, to kiss him breathless, but Arthur held him firmly in place while dragging his cock back and forth, the rubbing eased by pre-come slicking Merlin´s crevice.  Instead of turning he looked down, indulged in the sight of shining blonde hairs on Arthur´s arm moving over his hip as the strong sword hand kept fondling the soft inner thigh skin, and thumb reaching up to nudge his sweat damp sack. Trembling he turned his face to see a glimpse of Arthur. This time the request was met. Merlin sucked Arthur´s lower lip before opening wider and licking inside his mouth, gliding his tongue over hard teeth, enjoying the moaning response he got.

“More … I want … more,” he panted when they broke apart and Arthur hummed in response, and pressed his open mouth to Merlin´s neck and shoulder instead. “Touch me, please, touch me.”

In response to his plea, Arthur took Merlin´s achingly hard cock in his hand. The contact almost too much to bear, Merlin jerked back unwillingly, surprised. The motion only increased the sensation of Arthur´s hand holding on firmly, pulling the foreskin over the ridge and head, letting a thumb smear the pre-come pearled at the slit. The motion reversed as Merlin rocked back.

Humming together in mutual pleasure, they rocked back and forth in an easily found rhythm. Slow and steady at first, then increasing the pace. Merlin twisted his arm and held on to Arthur´s arse urging him closer, faster. Forward drove him into that strong warm hand, backward let him feel Arthur’s length rubbing his crevice and lower back. Every breath came hard fought for. His heart raced uncontrollably, his movements more and more jerky. Merlin´s vision narrowed down and blurred. Arthur cried out, low and guttural, his mouth next to Merlin´s ear, then stilled and hot cum spurted over his arse and back.  Merlin kept grinding, feeling the still hot cum smear all over his crevice. Oh, gods, Arthur´s actually come apart with him, with Merlin! Even though it seemed impossible the thought of that enhanced his arousal further. His breath was shaky now. He glanced down and watched Arthur´s hand on him.

“Come on, Merlin, come for me.” Arthur´s voice, dark and husky, urged him on from behind and above, his hand still milking his length with great enthusiasm.

“Arthur!” His breath hitched and he spilled thick white liquid over that hand and his own stomach.  And when he turned to look over his shoulder Arthur was already there watching, awe in gaze.

Merlin attempted to roll over.

“Wait!” Arthur stopped him with a hand to his back, sat up and swept a piece of cloth over his sticky lower back, used gentle fingers to spread his arse cheeks and continued wiping. When he was done he pulled Merlin around and they lay thigh to thigh, hip to hip and chest to chest, resting in each other’s gaze.

“I can never recognize you, Merlin. As long as my father lives, magic will be banned. And _this_!” He tightened his grip on Merlin and buried his face to his neck. “ _This_ can never happen.”

Merlin inched back and forced Arthur to meet his eyes once again, let his magic tingle under his fingertips, eyes burned gold and he stroked Arthur´s back over and over. He wanted to say; I´m here, when you want me to be, I´m here for you always; but remained silent.

They ate some of the bread and cheese, and drank cold water from the stream. The silence lay heavy, both stubbornly avoiding eye contact. Afterwards Merlin folded the blankets and went to see to the horses. If this was it, Merlin was happy he had at least had it, although knowing that this had been their only opportunity made his heart as well as his body physically ache for more of Arthur. Yesterday´s decision was long gone. He must have been crazy to even think it possible to ignore destiny. All he could think of now was how he should be there for Arthur, in any position, to help him become the king he was meant to be.

“You are coming back with me to Camelot.” Arthur had come up behind him without Merlin noticing, putting a hand on his hip.

Merlin shook his head. “I haven´t seen mum in almost three years. I miss her. And Gaius sent some hard to come by medicines for her.”

“So you are actually leaving.” It was both a question and a statement, the way he said it, and underneath hidden sorrow.

It was the closest to a confession that Arthur would miss him, already missed him, Merlin would ever get, and it twisted something in his heart. He lifted his hands, cradled Arthur´s face and kissed him, at first chaste, closed lips to closed lips, and then deepened, never making it filthy but slow, lingering, and bitter sweet. When they broke apart, Merlin stroked Arthur´s cheek.

“I´m not leaving. I´m never leaving you,” he whispered, untied the mare, sat up and rode off in direction of Ealdor. Not once did he look back to see if Arthur watched him leave or if the Prince was already on his way back to Camelot.

 

 

 

 


End file.
